Entry tags:
15 Minute Ficlet: Don't Shoot the Messenger
Title: Don't Shoot the Messenger
Rating: G
Genre: Gen
Words: 687
Summary: Ronon never bothered with the finer points of Earth's colloquialisms.
A/N: General season four spoilers. Written for Word #49 on
15_minute_fic
Rating: G
Genre: Gen
Words: 687
Summary: Ronon never bothered with the finer points of Earth's colloquialisms.
A/N: General season four spoilers. Written for Word #49 on
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There was an Earth saying that Ronon had heard during his time on Atlantis about shooting couriers. It was another one of those odd phrases they uttered that he didn't bother to understand. At least, he hadn't had opportunity to have it illustrated for him until he was watching his very irate team leader verbally eviscerate Lieutenant Gordon. Despite the fact that John Sheppard was restricted to crutches, and currently had his wrapped ankle propped up on the infirmary cot, 'intimidating' was a word that came to mind. Not that Ronon was intimidated by such thing as the dangerous scowl settling onto his friend's face, or the fact that he was unconsciously reaching for a gun that wasn't there.
"You did what?"
Ronon remained slouched against the wall, watching as the marine did his best not to shuffle or squirm.
"We kind of--lost him... sir."
"How do you lose him? He makes enough noise to wake up an entire city block!"
And McKay had actually done that, if Ronon remembered the incident correctly. The marine glanced at him, unwisely thinking he might find some sort of assistance in the quiet figure looming in the background. Ronon lifted his lip to reveal a canine, and the marine quickly turned his attention back to his dressing down.
"We just looked away for one minute--"
"You never 'just look away'!" Sheppard almost roared, forgetting that not everyone on Atlantis had developed the finer points of 'McKay Wrangling 101'. "And what are you doing back here?"
"Colonel Carter said I should let you--"
"Get back to that planet, Lieutenant, and find him!"
"Yes, sir."
"And when you come back, you better have a whole, not even slightly rumpled scientist, do you understand me?"
"I--"
"What's that?"
"Yes, sir!"
Sheppard gave another growl, and looked like he was seriously considering grabbing his crutch and using it to beat the lieutenant senseless. The marine wisely decided to flee to organize the S&R team. Sheppard watched him leave with narrowed eyes, and Ronon watched Sheppard.
The pilot's shoulders hunched up as he watched the retreating form, anger still simmering under the surface. "How do you lose him?"
Ronon decided it was probably unwise to point out that Sheppard himself had "lost" the scientist on their brief exploration of those jungle ruins a few days ago. That was also how he had wound up with his twisted ankle and a steadfast refusal to even speak to the scientist on anything regarding vines or tropical climates. Of course, without Teyla coming on missions it was a lot more difficult to keep track of everyone, especially when McKay decided that he just had to follow those energy signatures.
Sheppard began to eye his ankle critically, after surreptitiously checking the location of the entire medical staff. Ronon resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead pushed himself from the wall.
"I'll go with them." And with a 'gentle' shove to the other man's chest, forcing him back into the cot, Ronon strode out of the infirmary to the indignant complaints from the infirmary bed.
An hour later he returned, presenting a dirt-streaked astrophysicist to Sheppard for inspection. Standing next to the pilot's cot stood Teyla, who was eyeing the scientist cautiously as well.
"Will you stop manhandling me?" McKay squawked and pulled his shoulder free from the hand that had 'guided' him straight to the infirmary. "And stop looking at me like I'm some prized bull!"
Sheppard ignored him completely, instead turning his attention to Ronon. "What happened?"
"He fell into a hole."
"I--I did not!"
"Then why'd I have to pull you out of the ground?"
"I merely wasn't watching where I was stepping."
"How are you feeling, Rodney?" Teyla interrupted, a hand resting on the bulge in her stomach.
"Fine," he muttered, "nothing a shower can't fix, according to Keller. Unlike Lieutenant Gordon."
McKay turned to look at Ronon, askance. "And exactly how do you mistake a five foot five balding marine for a Wraith?"
Ronon shrugged innocently. "He startled me."
Teyla cocked her head inquisitively, while Sheppard looked up at the ceiling. "Ronon, I think the phrase is don't shoot the messenger."
"Oh," he simply shrugged again, "right."
"You did what?"
Ronon remained slouched against the wall, watching as the marine did his best not to shuffle or squirm.
"We kind of--lost him... sir."
"How do you lose him? He makes enough noise to wake up an entire city block!"
And McKay had actually done that, if Ronon remembered the incident correctly. The marine glanced at him, unwisely thinking he might find some sort of assistance in the quiet figure looming in the background. Ronon lifted his lip to reveal a canine, and the marine quickly turned his attention back to his dressing down.
"We just looked away for one minute--"
"You never 'just look away'!" Sheppard almost roared, forgetting that not everyone on Atlantis had developed the finer points of 'McKay Wrangling 101'. "And what are you doing back here?"
"Colonel Carter said I should let you--"
"Get back to that planet, Lieutenant, and find him!"
"Yes, sir."
"And when you come back, you better have a whole, not even slightly rumpled scientist, do you understand me?"
"I--"
"What's that?"
"Yes, sir!"
Sheppard gave another growl, and looked like he was seriously considering grabbing his crutch and using it to beat the lieutenant senseless. The marine wisely decided to flee to organize the S&R team. Sheppard watched him leave with narrowed eyes, and Ronon watched Sheppard.
The pilot's shoulders hunched up as he watched the retreating form, anger still simmering under the surface. "How do you lose him?"
Ronon decided it was probably unwise to point out that Sheppard himself had "lost" the scientist on their brief exploration of those jungle ruins a few days ago. That was also how he had wound up with his twisted ankle and a steadfast refusal to even speak to the scientist on anything regarding vines or tropical climates. Of course, without Teyla coming on missions it was a lot more difficult to keep track of everyone, especially when McKay decided that he just had to follow those energy signatures.
Sheppard began to eye his ankle critically, after surreptitiously checking the location of the entire medical staff. Ronon resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead pushed himself from the wall.
"I'll go with them." And with a 'gentle' shove to the other man's chest, forcing him back into the cot, Ronon strode out of the infirmary to the indignant complaints from the infirmary bed.
An hour later he returned, presenting a dirt-streaked astrophysicist to Sheppard for inspection. Standing next to the pilot's cot stood Teyla, who was eyeing the scientist cautiously as well.
"Will you stop manhandling me?" McKay squawked and pulled his shoulder free from the hand that had 'guided' him straight to the infirmary. "And stop looking at me like I'm some prized bull!"
Sheppard ignored him completely, instead turning his attention to Ronon. "What happened?"
"He fell into a hole."
"I--I did not!"
"Then why'd I have to pull you out of the ground?"
"I merely wasn't watching where I was stepping."
"How are you feeling, Rodney?" Teyla interrupted, a hand resting on the bulge in her stomach.
"Fine," he muttered, "nothing a shower can't fix, according to Keller. Unlike Lieutenant Gordon."
McKay turned to look at Ronon, askance. "And exactly how do you mistake a five foot five balding marine for a Wraith?"
Ronon shrugged innocently. "He startled me."
Teyla cocked her head inquisitively, while Sheppard looked up at the ceiling. "Ronon, I think the phrase is don't shoot the messenger."
"Oh," he simply shrugged again, "right."